roofer on the scaffolds, of Kuttenberg
“I have spent fifteen years hauling lead and slate above Kuttenberg. I just want my tools back and some peace on the boards.”
Things Maurice Polner had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Wednesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
I am getting too old to climb down from the Italian Court just to avoid a young man in the street. Oswald Christman asks again for his copper plate. I told him the tracing takes great care. I sit at my hearth and sigh. Lord give me strength.
Nota scribaeHe stared at the table for a long time before speaking.
the second day of May, at None
Philip Ford and Wolfgang Albrecht will not speak to each other on the scaffold. They pass slates in silence because Philip's boy and Wolfgang's girl were seen together. It makes the work dangerous. Young Edmund Black is no help either, constantly watching the road for a messenger.
My son will not keep company with that loud family. I have my pride.
And I have my hearing, which is better off without Philip's constant whining.
If Jan sends word from the army, someone needs to be looking out for it.
the third day of Easter week, at Compline
Master Francis is a fair man but he demands good tools. A man cannot cut slate properly with a dull chisel. My hands ache from the cold wind up there. The slate is hard this year. I slipped and ruined a morning's work. I feel a terrible shame.
I will bring your hammer back next week, Maurice, I promise. Things are just disorganised right now.
I have heard that before, Bartholomew. I need it for the flashing.
Nota scribaeThe man rubbed his face wearily and asked to stop for a drink of water.
the eve of Saint Matthias, at Vespers
Wenceslas Green snapped Osbert's wood-adze today. Careless. Now Osbert is offering twenty groschen to a stranger to beat Wenceslas in the dirt. A petty feud. I wish they would all just shut their mouths and focus on the flashing.
A good adze costs more than he is worth, Maurice. He breaks things without a thought.
I was distracted worrying about Lidka. The villages are empty and she is all alone.
Candlemas, at Prime
The winter was long and my savings are thin. Master Francis says we must bring our own gear to the boards. I lent my heavy roofing hammer to Bartholomew Smith today, and my best lead-shears to Osbert Tanner. I hope it helps them get hired.
You are too generous for your own good, Maurice. Mark my words, you will be hauling timber by Lent.
Nota scribaeDictated near the church steps. He spoke very slowly.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I only need it back to trace the halos, Maurice. It has been weeks and I am willing to pay twelve groschen to anyone who finds it.
I am putting the finishing touches on it, lad. Soon.